Shakespeares Champion Page 0,4

he'd grease up for the competition."

Claude raised his eyebrows interrogatively.

"I don't know what they use." I was getting tired of this conversation. But Claude was circling his hand in a gesture that meant. "Amplify."

"You have a series of poses you go through, to emphasize the muscle groups." I rose to give Claude a demonstration. I turned my body a little sideways to him, fisted my hands, arched my arms in pumped-up curves. I gave him the blank eyes and small smile that said, "Look how superior my body is. Don't you wish you were me?"

Claude made a face. "What's the point?"

"Just like a beauty contest, Claude." I resumed my seat at the table. "Except the focus is on muscular development."

"I saw the poster of last year's winners. That woman was like nothing I've ever seen," Claude said, wrinkling his nose.

"Marshall wanted me to enter."

"You'd do that?" he asked, horrified. "That gal looked like a small pumped-up man with boobs slapped on."

I shrugged. "I don't want to spend the time training. It takes months to get ready for a competition. Plus, I'd have to camouflage all the scars, which I think would be impossible. But that was what Del wanted to do, train and compete. Develop himself to his full potential, was the way he put it." I'd watched Del stare at one of his muscles for a good five minutes, wrapped up in his own reflection to the exclusion of the other people in the gym.

"I think I could have lifted what he had on the bar," Claude said, a question in his voice. He rinsed off the plates and put them in the dishwasher. "It came to two hundred ninety pounds."

I thought Claude was flattering himself, though I didn't say so out loud. Claude seemed to have a fair body, but he did not exercise and hadn't as long as I'd known him. "Bodybuilding isn't exactly like competitive weight lifting," I said. "Training for a competition, some people use somewhat lower weights and lots of reps, rather than really heavy weights and a few reps. That was probably Del's highest weight."

"Reps?" Claude said cautiously.

"Repetitions."

"Would he be lifting so much by himself? Del wasn't that big a man."

"That's what I don't understand," I admitted, retying my New Balances. "Del was so careful of himself. He wouldn't risk pulling a muscle or getting any injury this close to the competition. Surely he had a spotter. He told Bobo he was expecting someone."

"What's a spotter?" demanded Claude.

"A spotter is a buddy," I said, having to define a term so familiar to me I'd forgotten a time I hadn't known it. "A workout partner. If you don't have someone to spot for you, you would have to ask whoever was working at the gym ..." I could tell from Claude's frown that I wasn't being precise. "It's someone who stands there while you're doing the hardest part of your workout. That person is there to act as your safety net: hand you the weights, or the bar, take them when you've finished your set, cheer you on, grab your wrists if they start to weaken."

"So you won't drop the weights on yourself."

"Exactly. And to help you do those last few you need to finish your set."

"Example."

"Like if I was doing forty-fives, and that was my top capability or close to it, I'd lie down on the bench holding the dumbbells, and the spotter would stand or kneel at my head, and when I was pushing the weights up, if my arms started to shake, the spotter would grab my wrists and help me keep them steady."

"Forty-fives?"

"Two forty-five-pound dumbbells. Some people lift using the bar and adding weights, some people use different-weighted dumbbells. I happen to prefer dumbbells. Del liked the bar. He thought he got better chest development."

Claude looked at me thoughtfully. "You're telling me you can lift ninety pounds with your hands?"

"No," I said, surprised.

Claude looked relieved.

"I can lift a hundred ten or a hundred twenty."

"You."

"Sure."

"Isn't that a lot? For a woman?"

"In Shakespeare it is," I said. "At one of the bigger city gyms, probably not. You'd have a bigger pool of weight trainers."

"So how much would a man serious about training be able to do?"

"A man about Del's build, under six feet, about one hundred seventy? After intense training, I guess he'd be able to lift maybe three hundred twenty pounds, more or less. So you can see strength wasn't Del's sole goal, though he was very strong. He wanted exceptional